One Man an Army

Every top-tier attribute was a number derived at the beginning of the world.

It represented one of this world's most primordial rules.

Naimus believed that as long as he understood the existence of these eleven supreme rules, from zero to ten, he would gain a deeper understanding of how this world's rules developed.

"Individuals who possess hope can attain a higher rank." Naimus keenly noticed why achieving Historical Rank was so powerful.

Perhaps among all attributes, hope was an exceptionally special one.

Outside, attributes related to hope were practically never seen.

"So much so that most people regarded it as an artificial concept and classified hope under the concept category."

"Yet actual hope and the hope found within the concept category were vastly different."

Naimus gained another insight into the essence of the world, and this filled him with joy.

But the movements of his hands did not stop because of it.

"Holy Son, it has been a long time. I thought you were dead," Naimus said with a soft laugh, seemingly in no hurry to make a move.

Yet the instant his words fell, several streams of sword qi shot out from all directions, surrounding and besieging the Holy Son.

"Even if you die, I won't!" the Holy Son immediately shot back.

The Sword of War in his hand swung, and countless avian images shifted continuously, forming all kinds of sword qi that collided with Naimus's.

For a time, neither side could gain the upper hand.

"You're nothing more than a special projection formed by borrowing your subordinate's power," the Holy Son said. Under his Complete Saint Form, his eyes seemed capable of easily seeing through Naimus's condition.

Hearing those words, Naimus showed no reaction despite having his true state exposed. Bige, behind the Holy Son, was the one